


Go Down Singing

by mpatientdreamr



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Gen, Puck Is Not Politically Correct But Still Good Hearted, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpatientdreamr/pseuds/mpatientdreamr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing would ever be the same at William McKinley High School. The Gleeks had finally banded together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written after 1x13, therefore AU. Very, very AU. Karofsky, for instance, is totally not canon flavor Karofsky. Just fyi.

Rachel hurried down the hallway. She wouldn’t say that she was in a _blind_ panic, even as she freely admitted that she had no idea _where_ she was going to go besides away from the trouble stalking her. This school had never been her refuge, not until Mr. Schuester had taken over Glee and even that was only for a couple of hours every day and only when he wasn’t in the mood to try to destroy her career by giving away solos that she rightfully deserved.

Then she spotted Matt and, yes, he was surrounded by several of the other barbarians that were on the football team but she was _desperate_. Plus, she trusted him. She had _danced_ with him and he’d never dropped her, despite whatever difficulties or temptations he’d been feeling. (She’d dated Noah and made out with Finn. She knew that Glee on top of football practice sometimes led to weary, overtaxed bodies.)

“Matthew!” she called, relieved, grabbing him by his arm, then continued around him until she was behind him.

He turned to face her, as bemused as he always seemed to be around her. “Rachel? What’s up?”

She cleared her throat because, with Matt facing her, she was boxed in on all four sides and she’d never realized quite how short she was but behind her, Azimio looked as though he’d been carved from a semi-solid, yet gelatinous mountain and the gentlemen to her left and her right were similarly built and…

“Rachel!” Matt said, grasping her shoulders and gently shaking her, bending until he was looking her square in the eye. “What’s wrong?”

“I stomped on Marcus Leslie’s toes,” she blurted, biting back tears. She _never_ cried in front of jocks. It was like chumming the waters. Matt raised his eyebrows in query and so she started to ramble in a quick rush, “I was in the computer lab making a video to my fathers because they’re out of town for the week and I’d just gotten up to switch off one of the monitors because pictures of naked women had come up as a screensaver and Marcus appeared out of nowhere and _grabbed_ me and told me it was my lucky day, that we were going to party.” 

She grimaced, eyes a million miles away even as her hands smoothed away goosebumps on her arms, pushing up the sleeves of her short sleeved shirt and flashing the angry red prints that were sure to bruise. She didn’t notice the outrage on Matt’s face or Azimio grumbling like an angry bear. “I told him to cease and desist _touching_ me and he laughed and tried to kiss me and I stomped on his toes. He got angry, of course, and he shook me and I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted him to _let go_. So I kicked him in his privates and he fell over and I ran. He was swearing he would get me and you were the first person I saw and yes, you were with your friends but I trust you and while they’ve slushied and mocked me, they’ve never actually _touched_ me and I possibly wasn’t thinking.”

She was breathing too fast and was possibly about to break her policy of never crying in front of jocks because if this situation called for anything, it called for tears.

Matt’s face was tight with anger as he said, “I’m gonna kill him,” and his calm, reasonable tone made it that much more frightening.

“Nonono,” she said, shaking her head and grabbing hold of his shirt to keep him with her. Then her eyes widened as she saw Marcus with Dave Karofsky and half the hockey team coming down the hallway. She backed up and squeaked as she bumped soundly into Azimio who gently shoved her behind him so that she was sheltered between his broad back and the lockers.

She fisted her hand in the back of his shirt and pulled herself up onto her tiptoes so that she could see and she was certain that it likely looked comical because the only parts of her that could be seen were her eyes and the top of her head but she couldn’t help it. This pertained to her and she wanted to know what was going on.

Matt and Karofsky were having a low, menacing conversation and Rachel couldn’t really hear what they were saying but she got that Marcus had tried to say that _she_ accosted _him_ first.

“That’s not true!” she burst out, bouncing a little in her agitation. “And I can prove it!” Everyone stilled, then Azimio suddenly moved aside and Rachel would have fallen but between her natural dancer’s grace and Matt’s quick reflexes, she merely stumbled. She straightened herself and nodded her thanks to Matt before saying, “I was making a video. I didn’t pause it when I got up from the computer and I didn’t delete it, obviously, because I was in a hurry to leave. If you wish to know the true details, all you have to do is watch the video.”

She smoothed her hands down the pleats of her skirt nervously then swallowed when Karofsky stepped aside, the other hockey players parting so that she could pass. Matt wrapped an arm across her shoulder and guided her through and it should have been ridiculous but then Marcus sneered at her and she jerked. They made an odd little train, her tucked into Matt, three football players, then half the hockey team trailing them, but Rachel just wanted to get it over with.

She queued up the video, then stepped back and turned away. Living it once had been enough, thank you; she didn’t need to see it. Matt wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into his comfort. When he tensed all over, she pressed harder into him.

Silence fell and she jerked at the sound of chairs scattering in a scuffle. She twisted to see Karofsky and Azimio hauling Marcus Leslie out of the room, presumably to his execution, the rest of the jocks besides Matt following.

The last thing she heard as they left was Dave Karofsky snarling, “We don’t _force_ girls. Not even geeks.”

Rachel slumped into Matt for a moment, trying to perform her breathing exercises to control the quaking in her legs. He held her up because that was what good dance partners, teammates, and sort-of friends did.

She pulled away and moved towards the computer saying, “Thank you. Undoubtedly, Marcus’s brand of vengeance would have been unsavory.”

Matt nodded and pulled out a thumb drive. “Here. Save the video, in case you need it later.”

She swallowed, really wishing she could just erase the video, the whole day, honestly. But she nodded and took the drive with a grave, “Thank you.”

Matt smiled, one of those startlingly sweet smiles he unleashed during Glee occasionally. “You’re welcome. That’s what friends are for.”

She beamed, even as she saved the video. She hadn’t been precisely certain that they were actually friends. “Right, of course. I was honestly shocked, though, by the way your football friends reacted. They have never been my friends.”

“Yeah, well, Azimio’s got a thing about touching women without their permission,” Matt said, shrugging when she looked at him. “It’s why the football team always left girls to the Cheerios, besides the slushees.”

“And the hockey team?” Rachel asked as she fiddled with the drive.

“Karofsky’s got a single mother and two sisters,” Matt frowned. “He’s a dick but he’d never push up on a woman.”

Rachel swallowed, holding out the drive. “Keep this for me? I don’t want to…” When he hesitated, she added, “I trust you.”

He took the drive, a confused look on his face. “Rachel…”

She was bad with people, she knew this. They found her abrasive and she found them confusing. But this was simple. She stepped into him, hugging him fiercely as she said, “You’re my friend. And you’ve never dropped me.”

And those were terms that Matt understood because he hugged her back, then said, “Hey, we better get moving. We’re gonna be late for math and I think even Puck’s showing up today.”

Rachel let him guide her out of the computer lab even as she looked up at him and asked wearily, “We’re watching _Gladiator_ again?”

He smiled sheepishly and she rolled her eyes. Of course Noah would only show up if there was senseless violence and gore.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Azimio was waiting for her by her locker the next morning, a slushee in one hand and a scowl firmly in place on his face. Rachel swallowed but she’d never been a coward so she straightened her shoulders and marched up to him.

“Can I help you?” she asked, calmly spinning the dial on her locker. She was proud that neither her voice, nor her hand shook. Her eyes involuntarily slid to the slushee but she didn’t think it was for her. They’d never actually had the audacity to wait for her at her locker just to slushee her before.

“If Leslie tries anything, you let me know,” Azimio said, seemingly aggrieved. He shifted as though to hide the slushee and Rachel stuck her head in her locker to hide her eye roll. Who said she didn’t have any tact?

“Of course,” she lied and it was obvious he didn’t believe her but whatever he would have said was cut off by Mike flinging himself into the locker beside hers.

“Ms. Ansel’s killing me,” he said with a grimace and Rachel could tell that he was over here pestering her about homework because Azimio was so close to her and a bully to boot. Mike didn’t once glance at the behemoth to her right but he still managed to seem tense while sprawling all over the lockers he was leaning against.

She sighed but held out her hand for the five page packet that was due at the end of the week. “Perhaps if you stayed awake in history, you’d have less difficulty.”

He grinned brightly as he handed it over. “Come on, Rachel. I need my beauty rest and Ms. Ansel talks like she’s just swallowed peanut butter.”

She shook her head, biting back a smile as she tucked his packet into her folder on top of hers. “I’ll have the corrections back to you tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Mike said, then looked to her right. “Hey Azimio, how’s it goin’?”

Azimio gave a look that promised that they weren’t through talking, grunted, and ambled down the hall. He really was graceful for such a large man.

“Rachel?” Mike said, pulling her attention back to him. “What did Azimio want?”

She went back to pulling her books from her locker as she said, “He desired that I come to him should another situation with Mark Leslie arise. To keep from offending him and earning myself a slushee to the face, I of course agreed, although I have no intention of doing any such thing.”

Mike nodded seriously. “Matt told me about yesterday.” He grinned a little and nudged her. “I’ve never dropped you, either.”

Rachel blushed slightly even as she nodded resolutely. “Precisely. Which would be why I would seek out you or Matthew or Finn or Noah. I know you and I trust you. And due to excessive training for football, you’re each in prime physical shape and quite capable of holding your own in a brawl if things digressed to such.”

Mike gave her that goofy grin that she’d spent 3 long months learning meant he was really happy. All males appreciated being thought of as capable protectors. “Thanks, Rachel.”

She patted his arm. “Fighting is just a more brutal form of dancing and you are, by far, one of the best dancers I know.”

A light blush started at the top of his cheeks even as his grin grew broader. Their attention was drawn to the doors as student began to scatter in a panicked hurry. Noah looked foreboding as he stomped down the hallway straight for her.

“Oh, no,” Rachel said, leaning into Mike to hiss, “Who told him?”

“Matt, probably,” Mike shrugged. “You really got him with the trust thing.”

Rachel sighed. Apparently, once Matt was comfortable enough to speak, it was hard to make him stop.

Noah stopped less than a foot away from her, eyes intent and he might have looked furious but his fingers were gentle as they carefully pulled her sleeve up to reveal purple finger-shaped bruising. His jaw clenched and his eyes blazed.

She latched onto his arm before he could leave and said, “Noah, promise me you’ll leave this alone.” At his stubborn look, she hurried out quickly, “This ordeal has been quite enough without losing Glee because you needed to express your displeasure through violence and got expelled.”

His jaw ticked but he finally just leaned into the locker to her right. “Whatever.”

She let out a calming breath, closing her locker door as she slid a covert glance at Mike who seemed to be studying them in fascination. The warning bell rang and Rachel stepped away from them, saying, “I’ll see you both at Glee.”

She was surprised when they both fell into step beside her, Mike starting up a conversation that was possibly about football. Or maybe baseball. It had something to do with balls and fouls and their inability to win. Rachel didn’t understand half of it. 

They passed Marcus Leslie in the hall and he looked like he’d been run over by a truck. Maybe a couple of times. He sneered and Rachel hastily slid her arm through Noah’s to keep him beside her and he didn’t let her pull away until they’d gotten to her homeroom. 

She glanced back to see them standing in the doorway, still arguing, and they didn’t leave until she’d gotten to her seat. Rachel wasn’t sure if having friends meant she had bodyguards or if the over protectiveness would fade as the bruises around her arm did. She just knew that she’d never really felt the warm glow surrounding her except for the time she and Mercedes had bonded over an excellently sung ballad.  
 


	3. Chapter 3

The glow lasted until the end of third period, when she walked into the hall and everyone seemed to be hiding behind their phones, whispering. They were sneaking peeks at her but for once they weren’t laughing at her clothes or mocking her gold stars. They weren’t laughing at her at all and that was, in its own way, worse. Unease curled around her stomach and started to squeeze, bile rising with every passing second. 

As she passed, an arm shot out of the girls’ bathroom and yanked her inside. After yesterday’s events, it was nearly enough to give her a heart attack. She looked around frantically and, surprisingly, relaxed when she finally figured out that it was just Santana, Quinn, and Brittany. 

“I take it you needed me for something?” she asked a little sharply, trying to swallow her heart back down.

Santana thrust her phone into her face and said grimly, “Just watch.”

Her hand fluttered up to cover her mouth and tears started to back up in her eyes as the video began to play and Marcus Leslie’s attack on her came into frame. Santana snapped her phone closed before it was halfway through.

Brittany engulfed her in a hug as Quinn said, “We just thought you should know.”

“I deleted it myself,” Rachel said, gasping for air a little. She was mildly ashamed of her inability to control her tears. “And Matthew has the only copy and he wouldn’t…He wouldn’t…”

“It’s on Jewfro’s blog,” Santanna said, grimacing. “He must have gotten to it first.”

The anger that’d been hiding under all the shame and fear bubbled to the surface and Rachel ripped herself away from Brittany’s comforting embrace and stomped to the door, slamming the door open. “I’m going to give that maladjusted mouth breathing cretin a piece of my mind.”

She was unaware of the three girls following but the students scrambling to get out of her path was evident enough so she must have appeared suitably peeved. She rounded the corner towards Jacob’s locker in time to see Matt slamming him into it, Noah and Mike backing him up. She quickened her step, calling, “Matthew, don’t get yourself expelled on his account.”

The fists balled in Jacob’s shirt tightened but when Rachel set a hand on his arm, Matt released him and stepped back. And, for once in her life, Rachel let herself be ruled by her emotions and not what was most logic. She hauled off and slapped Jacob Ben Israel’s hateful face.

“You miserable, no account leech,” she managed, body heaving from lack of air as she fought not to cry again. “You’re a horrible, indecent human being who will die alone and unloved because you find joy in spreading others’ unhappiness to the masses like it’s any of their business.”

She stumbled back, hoping she could get back to the girls room before she started crying again and Noah caught her around the waist. She looked up at him and she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore and sometimes she was nearly positive he didn’t even like her but worry covered his face. For her. And she came undone, twisting and pressing her face into his broad, well-muscled chest and sobbing a lifetime of frustration out.

The murmuring of worried voices didn’t cut through her little bubble of misery until a warm hand settled on her shoulder. “Rachel?”

Of course it was Mr. Schue. He had awful timing, as per usual, and of course he wouldn’t be able to be oblivious to this. He was bent at the knee so that when she turned her face, she was looking directly into his worried puppy dog eyes and she twisted and pressed her face back into Noah’s soaked shirt, trying to hide her face. He cared about the Glee kids, sometimes too much, and that was there in his face now. This was going to be a _scandal_. She would have to tell her fathers. God, this was awful.

When she’d composed herself, she pulled away, mopping at her face and finding that besides herself, Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Matt, Mike, Noah, Jacob, Mr. Schuester, and Principal Figgins, the hallway was empty.

“I believe it would be better to continue this in my office,” Principal Figgins said, looking at her sternly.

Rachel thought it would be best if everyone would just let her forget it ever happened but she was pretty sure, as per usual, her vote didn’t count.

Noah kept her tucked under his arm and the others seemed to be trying to put as much space between her and the teachers and Jacob Ben-Israel as they could, even Mr. Schuester.

They were showed into Figgins’s secretary’s office and told to wait. Rachel sat fidgeting with her fingers, twisting and twining them until Noah took one hand and Quinn the other and then she was so busy trying to fight back the inexplicable urge to cry that she didn’t notice Marcus Leslie being shown into the office until there was a jerk and rattle of chairs. She swallowed at the angry look on his face.

Quinn’s fingers squeezed around hers and Rachel looked to her. The look Quinn was giving Marcus was one of spectacular disdain. It was the Queen look that’d always made her terrifying to the lower ranked masses of William McKinley High and it was being whipped out for Rachel’s sake. Rachel went back to studying her fingers, one hand engulfed in Noah’s much larger mitt and the other wrapped around Quinn’s equally delicate fingers. They were a study in contrast and it was humbling to think that, after everything, they were her friends.

“Rachel?” Mr. Schuester called and she jerked, looking up at him. “Your dads are on their way.”

“But they were in California,” she blurted.

“They got an early flight back,” he shrugged, looking at her worriedly. “They were going to surprise you.”

She swallowed and managed a weak smile. “Surprise.” Noah’s thumb rubbed across her knuckles. 

Mr. Schuester turned and gave a much less sympathetic look to Marcus. “Your father is also on the way.” He looked at everyone else. “Besides Mr. Ben-Israel, everyone else really should go to class.” Nobody moved and Mr. Schue sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His gaze skipped from face to face, then he shook his head and pulled back into Figgins’s office. It was that face he had where he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed in them or proud of them, the one he seemed to reserve for his Gleeks.

   
 


	4. Chapter 4

When the outer office door swung open again, Rachel swallowed at the looks on her fathers’ faces. She jumped up, forgetting that her fingers were twined with Noah and Quinn’s. They both stood rather than make her let go and her fathers raised their eyebrows.

“Rachel? What’s going on?” her daddy asked, shoving his glasses up his nose.

“Yeah, kiddo, we don’t usually get called into the principal’s office,” her dad said, eyes locked on the hand that was held in Noah’s.

She startled, letting her fingers loosen around Noah’s but his tightened and she just swallowed and started to ramble. “Dad, Daddy, this is Quinn. Remember I asked if it would be okay if she stayed with us for a while?”

Quinn jerked slightly but didn’t let go of Rachel’s fingers as her fathers nodded.

“And we’ve told you she’s welcome to stay as long as she wants,” her Daddy said, shooting Quinn his sweet grin. “But that doesn’t explain why we’re here.”

“And who that…gentleman is,” her Dad said, nodding soberly towards Noah.

“This is, uh, Noah,” Rachel said, swallowing. “Noah Puckerman.”

Her Daddy’s eyebrows went up, probably pleased by the Jewish last name but her Dad, as always, was more focused on the fact that a _boy_ was holding his little girl’s hand.

“He’s in Glee,” Rachel finally burst out because she was really horrible with silences. Noah shot her that look that said she was being crazy but silences with her fathers were always uncomfortable.

“Rachel?” Mr. Schuester said behind them and she’d never been so happy to go into the principal’s office, especially since Noah finally had to relinquish her hand and her Dad stopped looking constipated.

Then she swallowed and remembered _why_ she was in the principal’s office and that she was going to have to explain years of bullying to her fathers and she wished Noah’s hand was wrapped around hers again.

“Would you care to explain why you were seen smacking Jacob Ben Israel in the hallway, Miss Berry?” Figgins started, hands folded on his desk.

“Rachel!” her Daddy hissed, aghast, and she flushed.

Instead of answering directly, she pulled out her phone and said, “They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I wonder if this video will be worth as many.”

She passed the phone, playing the blasted video from yesterday, to the principal, Mr. Schuester leaning in so he could see it, too. When they heard her voice speaking cheerfully to them, her fathers stood and clustered around so they could see over Figgins’s shoulder. Rachel went back to an intent study of her fingers trying to ignore the sounds.

“Rachel?” Mr. Schuester said a few minutes after the video stopped. He cleared his throat. “What does this have to do with Jacob?”

“He posted it,” she said, voice thick with tears. “On his blog. And the entire school has seen it.”

She took great, gulping breaths to keep from crying. She was tired of crying.

“What I want to know is why no one came to me about this?” Figgins said, shaking her phone at her.

“Why would we?” Rachel asked, a little bewildered. “I’ve been bullied since I started high school here. I’ve spent thousands of dollars on clothes and dry cleaning bills. Admittedly, this is the first time anyone’s become physical with me but it’s not the first time my misadventures, or anyone else’s, have been featured in Jacob’s blog, usually, in my case, with commentary about my breasts or legs. And I can name at least six teachers that have turned their backs on the knowledge the blog provides evidence for. Coach Sylvester being only the most diligent in her tolerance of it. We, as students, are aware of the limitations of this school and the lack of care shown to anyone who’s not a jock or Cheerio. We deal with these injustices with the knowledge that high school only lasts four years and then we’ll be allowed to escape.”

“Rachel, you should have told someone,” Mr. Schuester said.

“Why?” she asked again. “So that everyone could call me a rat as well as a loser? Mr. Schue, nothing would change. _You_ can’t do anything. You, as adults, are outnumbered and your students are aware that you can’t be everywhere at once. Half the time, I’m not even positive who’s doing the bullying and I’m the victim! So, besides the video on Jacob’s blog and perhaps forbidding slushees from being allowed on the campus, there really isn’t anything to be done about this situation besides letting it die quietly. Please.”

“Rachel…” her Daddy said and there was such disappointment there. “This kind of thing doesn’t just go away.”

She’d teared up at his tone but she vigorously nodded her head. “Yes, it does. The hierarchy of the school may perpetuate bullying but physical assault, especially against girls, is frowned upon. Marcus Leslie not only withdrew from the hockey team, he’s also at this moment one very large walking bruise. And if everyone would just stop _talking_ about it, that would be the end.”

Her Dad turned to Figgins. “What kind of institution are you running here? The students mete out justice as they see fit and bullying is condoned?”

“Mr…Berry,” Figgins looked perturbed for a moment because obviously he wasn’t certain which of her fathers was Mr. Berry or if they both were. “Mr. Berry, we can only try to solve the problems we are aware of. If the children do not come to us, then we cannot help them. Violence and bullying are of course frowned upon but unless Miss Berry or any of the others decides to give up the names of those doing the bullying, our hands are tied. Mr. Leslie, of course, will be expelled for this little stunt. And I have no doubt that he, at least, will be willing to give us the names of the boys that enacted violence upon him. We can’t even truly do anything about Mr. Ben Israel’s blog because it is covered by Free Speech. We will, of course, restrict his access to computers while he is here at school as well as monitor his internet activity while he is on a school computer but we can’t make him take down the blog or any articles he may have posted.”

“So my daughter is a sitting duck for every jock with a vendetta and every voyeur with a phone?” Her Dad said, voice rising. “And you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“Mr. Berry, I’m sorry, but there isn’t anything I _can_ do,” Figgins said, spreading his hands.

“Well,” her Dad said, straightening, “There’s something we can do. Carmel has given Rachel an open invitation to join their school and their show choir and I believe she’ll be taking it.”

“Dad, no!” she said, standing and shaking her head. “I’m New Directions’s strongest vocalist. I can’t just leave them.”

“Rachel, you can’t stay where people bully you,” he said, running a hand over his head.

Her spine straightened. “Since I joined Glee, things have gotten a lot better. The slushee facials have almost stopped, no one’s thrown eggs at me in months, and people are generally less cruel. And it’s the same way for most of the kids. If I leave, they go back to being sitting ducks. And I can’t let that happen. They’re my friends.”

Mr. Schue was maybe finally realizing that seven of his twelve had been more immune to the bullying before they’d joined Glee, that they’d maybe even been on the bullying end instead of the bullied end. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut because she really was his strongest singer.

“Fine,” her Daddy said, even though her Dad still looked angry. “If you think this is for the best, if you want to stay, we’ll let you make that decision.”

Rachel nodded and kept the thought that letting kids make their own decisions was probably how the bullying and violence had probably started to herself.

   
 


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel’s fathers tried to talk her into going home at least for the day but she was resolute. Besides all the class work she’d miss out on, there was Glee practice that afternoon, too. Sectionals had gone very well despite their competition cheating but Regionals were going to be much more difficult and with all the baby dramas, no one had really been concentrating. She was fully prepared to give another rousing speech if people didn’t stop resting on their laurels. 

Still, her fathers left her in the care of her fellow Glee clubbers, wary though her Dad was of Noah.

“How much trouble are you in for popping Ben Israel?” Mike asked, jittering along beside them.

“None,” Rachel said, shaking her hair back from her face.

“Figgins let you skate?” Santanna asked, eyebrows rising. 

Rachel gave a smug smile. “My fathers threatened to sue. He folded like a deck of cards.”

“House of cards, Berry,” Noah said, rolling his eyes.

“Guys?” Mr. Schue said, sticking his head out the office door. “Don’t give Figgins another shot at shutting down Glee, alright? Go to class.”

Rachel smiled at him. “Of course, Mr. Schuester.” She spun and started to march along. 

She turned and looked at her club mates, eyebrow raised.

Mike sighed but bumped fists with Mike and Noah, following her. “I was really hoping to be able to skip history,” he whined, bumping shoulders with her.

She pursed her lips, then sighed. “I believe Ms. Ansel is playing _Saving Private Ryan_ today to help us learn Hollywood’s bastardized version of WWII.”

“Yes!” Mike said, jabbing a fist in the air. “I’d forgotten about that.” He cleared his throat and said kind of sheepishly, “So which one of your dads is the, uh, woman?”

Rachel was, well, slightly _horrified_. “ _Michael_! Both of my fathers are men and lack both the genitalia and desire to be women!”

“No! No, I meant which one started out as Mr. Berry and which one changed his name? It just, it’s a weird question,” he said, a hand on her arm keeping her from stomping away from him. He scratched his head, face squishing up sort of adorably. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything; I just wanted to know how that worked out.”

She relaxed incrementally before giving a short laugh, scrubbing a hand over her face. The past couple of days had been an emotional rollercoaster and she’d really like to just go to sleep and have it be an awful nightmare. 

Rachel sighed and let her hand drop to the Star of David around her neck. “My Daddy, my white father, changed his name to Berry. His family wasn’t necessarily supportive of his loving another man.” She gave a brilliant smile. “Dad says it was because Grandmother was disappointed because she didn’t think that she would get any grandchildren from him. When I came along, Daddy slowly began to rebuild those familial ties.”

“So your, er, Dad? His family is supportive?” Mike asked, studying his shoes.

Rachel looked down just to check out what had him fascinated and, yes, his brightly colored sneakers were interesting but not quite deserving of the intensity with which he was studying them. 

Finally, though, she shrugged and said, “They had adjusted by the time I arrived, although Grandma often hints that she would really like another grandchild. My fathers, nonetheless, are quite happy with the life they’ve built together and they don’t let anyone tear them down.” She lifted her chin, a smile curving her lips. “That’s a trait I get from both of them.”

Mike studied her for a second, then slung his arms across her shoulders. “One of these days, Rachel Berry, you’re going to be a star and I’m going to be extra happy that you were my friend in high school.”

“I know,” she said, smiling up at him. It’s not conceited if it was true.

He laughed before sobering slightly. “You know the hockey team’s going to be out for blood. Mark’s gonna tell.”

She nodded. “Undoubtedly, they will think that I told the first authority figure I happened upon, which led Marcus Leslie into tattling on them. And there’s nothing that can be done to convince them otherwise because they’re Neanderthals that can’t be relied upon to use the two brain cells bouncing around in their overly aggressive noggins.”

Mike snickered. “What are you going to do?”

She smirked at him and said dryly, “Wear a raincoat.”

He laughed but she knew it wasn’t really funny, especially if it spread outward from her. The whole club could come under attack because of this catastrophe. 

   
 


	6. Epilogue

Puck hurried through the halls as quickly as he could while still making it look casual. He was a badass. He didn’t rush to _anyone’s_ aid. Honestly, he was used to being the reason they would be needing aid. Glee was turning him soft, man, but he didn’t really have time to think about it at the moment.

He slowed to a stop beside Rachel’s locker, taking a moment to enjoy the gloriousness that were Rachel Berry’s legs.

She looked up at him, startled, then glanced at his hands, obviously wondering if the lessons he’d learned from his own slusheeing hadn’t stuck.

They had, though, and that was why he was both _here_ and empty handed. And after babygate, he knew who his friends were. The Gleeks, in all their painfully socially awkward glory, had circled the wagons around Quinn, Finn, _and_ him. (Artie had literally pulled a little wagon in a circle around them but Artie was occasionally strangely literal and managed to make even the most surreal things very serious while being funny as hell. Artie was just naturally cool like that.)

He noticed the other students starting to scatter like prey before a huge, hungry, vicious predator, leaned down, and hurriedly murmured, “In a second, I’m going to do something but I’m just trying to help.”

Normally, he was a badass and he wouldn’t have bothered explaining himself but she carried mace and that shit stung.

She blinked those big, brown liquid eyes at him and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He glanced red and white out of the corner of his eye and leaned in closer and kissed her almost chastely, hands settling around her tiny waist. He _was_ just trying to help. And, okay, maybe cop a feel, too. She gamely circled one arm around his shoulders and her other hand played along his Mohawk. She opened her lips for him and he forgot where they were, why he was kissing her. He just knew she tasted like sweet strawberries and innocence and that she felt great against him when he hoisted her to her toes to press flush against him.

At least, he forgot where he was until Hummel’s sarcastic amused voice cut through the haze of hormones clouding his brain. 

“Oh my God. Stifle your hormone-driven urges until you’re behind closed doors. I don’t need the repeated mental scarring.” 

Puck looked up to see Hummel smiling a little wide-eyed at them. Since he’d obviously had to cut through the entire hockey team to reach them, Puck could understand his slight panic. But that ‘repeated mental scarring’ crack was just bullshit because he and Rachel hadn’t even gotten that far on the PDA scale when they’d been _dating_ and they weren’t dating now, just faking it. Even if it had been really hot. 

He let the comment slide, though, when Rachel _finally_ noticed all the slushees held forgotten in the jocks’ hands and pressed closer to him. He tightened his arms around her waist but smirked at all the faces ranging around them. Yeah, that’s right, boys. Rachel Berry was a firecracker under all that prim and proper prissiness and she was hot for him. 

Mike and Matt sidled up behind them and, ignoring the bewildered people around them and Hummel’s slow shuffle into their small circle of protection, Mike said, “Hey, Rachel? Did you do the math homework?” 

And Rachel, fear of an epic slusheeing forgotten, pulled slightly away from him and stomped her tiny little ballet-flat covered foot, and said, “Michael! I explained all that yesterday at Glee!” 

“I know,” Mike said sheepishly. “And I think I got all of them but 8 and 10.” He paused, then shrugged. “I think.” He busted out the puppy eyes and Rachel wilted a little. 

“Let me see,” she said, resigned, and Mike _and_ Matt whipped out their math homework. She glared at Matt, obviously thinking of starting another lecture, and Matt gave her that ‘You know you love me’ grin that usually got him out of _everything_. Rachel sighed and just started to check their work. That grin widened into a bright, surprised ‘Rachel Berry is my friend’ smile that people usually got when she forewent lecturing and actually _helped_ them. 

Hummel pressed closer to look over her shoulder and Puck was pretty sure he should feel weird about that since he still had his arms around Rachel’s waist but he didn’t. That might’ve had something to do with having to pick Hummel up and hold him back from scratching Santana’s eyes out the other day because of an accident involving her nail polish and his favorite new designer sweater. Sure Hummel was a dude who was into dudes but he dressed like a girl and sometimes _acted_ like a girl so it wasn’t that hard to kind of just…treat him like a girl, with a few minor differences, of course. (Like, say, if Hummel’s hand ever landed on his ass, Puck would probably punch his teeth down his throat instead of smirking at the invitation.) 

“Hey guys!” Artie said as he rolled up smiling, Tina hot on his wheels. (Heh, and Rachel says he’s not clever.) “What’re we doing?” 

“Checking Michael and Matthew’s math homework,” Rachel said distractedly, glancing at him. 

Artie automatically pulled out his math book and Rachel passed him Mike’s papers. Mike moved to hover around Artie, still muttering about 8 and 10, and Matt crowded into them to see what Rachel was doing to his own paper and everyone was ignoring the elephants, the slushee-bearing, letterman wearing elephants, that surrounded them. Everyone but Puck who was staring down Karofsky, just daring him to slushee over half of Glee. The hockey team were mostly animals, so they understood pack mentality and the possible result of messing with a _group_ of people instead of just one person. 

The indecision on the dick’s face was priceless. And Puck knew it wasn’t just because the Gleeks weren’t cowering like they were supposed to. Partly it was because three of them were football players and built for violence. And Hummel got fierce when he got pissed. And if the Gleeks could just ignore them, how would they react to slushee facials? Artie might roll all over them and Tina wore steel-toed boots and _everybody_ knew that Rachel was crazy. The entire hockey team shuffled back a few steps, then turned and went back the way they came from. 

As Mike looked up and caught his eye, as Matt gave a quiet grunt of satisfaction, Puck knew that nothing would ever be the same at William McKinley High School. The hierarchy was going to be shaken to its core. The Gleeks had finally banded together, in part thanks to Sectionals and in part due to Rachel drawing football players to her like a magnet, and they had something besides brawn and slushees on their side. Talent, ambition, and brains drove this club and they let nothing stand in their way. 


End file.
